How GOB Got His Groove Back
by pavlov70
Summary: Unexpected side-effects turn GOB's life around for the better after overdosing on nutritional supplements. Is there really better living through chemistry? Picks up after GOB Get's a Job: Feelin' Blue


"How GOB Got His Groove Back"

Picks up immediately after "GOB Gets a Job: Feelin' Blue". Please read that first if you haven't already. Then post a review (good or bad) for each. Because I'm a sucker for reviews. Now go!

PS: Thanks for the reviews to date. Much appreciated!

--

GOB strode into the lobby of the Vitalis Company. A bored-looking receptionist looked up from her monitor. On the screen, points drained away from her game of Solitaire while she assessed the blue-skinned man with a maniacal glint in his eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"Doctors Strickland and Zordis. I want to speak with them. Now."

"I'm afraid they're in a meeting right now. I can…"

Something flashed in GOB's eyes that made her pause.

"I can certainly interrupt them, however. Please follow me."

GOB grinned as if he expected nothing less. He really _did_ expect nothing less, as he'd really gotten his groove back in the last 24 hours. Ever since he swallowed (accidently!) the thirty day supply of nutritional supplements he was testing for the Vitals Company.

Last night Ann returned home ready to continue the argument she had flounced away from earlier in the day. Tempers flared, and an argument ensued, igniting passions and leading to the inevitable post-argument make-up sex. As much as he enjoyed the argument, the sex was even better as it also, finally, consummated their relationship. At one point GOB wasn't even sure if Ann was praying or climaxing. His question was answered soon after when she demanded they consummate their relationship again. And then again.

The morning found whistling as he scooted along the boardwalk on his Segway, grateful for it as he awoke rather sore and walking only exacerbated the pain. Passing the Banana Stand, he scored, or maybe scared, another free GOB from the pimply kid.

For lunch, GOB stopped by Burger King, a restaurant Tobias swore by and he had grown to rather enjoy himself. There was a handicapped spot by the front door and the closest general parking was a good seven spots away. The thought of the extra walking was too much for him to contemplate in his tender condition, so he logically chose the handicapped spot, reasoning he was currently as handicapped as some old lady with a walker.

After lunch over a whopper with cheese, fries, and a diet Coke (tasty! And a bargain, too!) GOB exited the restaurant to find one of Balboa's finest attempting to find a place on the Segway to leave a parking 

ticket. He confronted the cop, and with contra-reasoning that amazed GOB himself, ended it with GOB scooting away merrily and leaving a dazed-looking cop in his wake, tearing up the ticket.

Life is coming up Milhouse, as the saying goes, and he owed it all to those pills. Those wonderful, ego-enhancing, skin-blueing, boner-building pills filled with whatever nature's goodness those scientists crammed in them. And he was out of them.

The receptionist led him past the lobby to a conference room. She knocked on the door then opened it.

"Dr. Strickland? Dr. Zordis? I'm sorry to interrupt but there's a Mr…"

GOB brushed past her.

"George Oscar Bluth," he proclaimed, "and you are going to give me some more of those pills."

Dr. Strickland's eyes narrowed and Dr. Zordis looked up from a file he was reviewing.

"I'm sorry, we're going to do what, Mister, ahhh, Bluth?" enquired Dr. Zordis.

"I said you are going to give me more of those pills."

Dr. Strickland opened her mouth as to say something and then shut it as GOB continued on.

"In the 48 hours since I have taken those pills, my life has completely changed for the good, guy. I feel nothing short of spectacular! My girlfriend can't stop fucking me. In the good way! Cops tear up my tickets. I get free frozen bananas, guy. Free! I want back on the program, I want my 200 a week, and most importantly, I want more pills!"

Dr. Strickland recovered her ability to speak.

"Mr. Bluth, if you think for a minute that we will ever allow you to continue the study after you so flagrantly violated Section 3 of…"

Dr. Zordis waved his hand so as to cut off Dr. Strickland.

"Now hold on a minute, Vera, there might be something to this."

He opened a drawer, pulled out a bottle, and set it on the desk.

"Here, Mr. Bluth. GOB. Come sit down. How do you feel?"

GOB snatched up the bottle and with shaking hands poured a handful of pills, downing them _sans_ water. He closed his eyes, sighing happily at the bitter taste.

"Mr. Bluth?"

GOB opened his eyes, focusing his attention back to the two doctors who sat before him.

"How do I feel? I feel good. Better than good, actually. I feel….. gooder. Life has never been gooder. Also, I really want another double-dipped chocolate frozen banana with extra nuts. And I have a raging erection."

"Fascinating," muttered Dr. Zordis as he scribbled in a notebook. "Increased sense of well-being. Enhanced libido is surprising and deserves further study. This could give those Natural Life jerks over at ChemGro a real run for the money."

"Very good," muttered Dr. Strickland as she and her colleague consulted briefly.

"Mr. Bluth," she said, looking back up, "please sit down as it appears we have a lot to talk about."

"I can't."

For the next two hours the doctors grilled GOB with him standing until the effects of the pills subsided enough for him to sit. He was then ushered in to another room where an attractive brunette lab technician weighed him, measured him, and generally poked and prodded him.

"Hey, uhh, Ms. Anderson," asked GOB, looking down at the name tag pinned to her lab coat, "how about you finishing up and letting me do some poking for awhile?"

Ms. Anderson, who was just about to draw blood from GOB's arm, jerked in surprise at the question and missed the vein.

"Oww! Damn it!"

She forced a tight smile. "I'm sorry but I don't date patients."

"Oh, I wasn't talking about a date," GOB said, grinning slyly.

Ms. Anderson stabbed the needle into GOB's arm, missing the target by an inch or two.

"Oww! Now come on!"

GOB was still rubbing his arms as he was being led to another meeting. Ms. Anderson had missed a vein five times on his right arm and four on his left.

_Either they really need to hire better technicians,_ he thought to himself, _or those pills have worn off._

GOB popped open the bottle and downed a few more supplements before being ushered into what was obviously an executive's office. Two suits sat inside. The older and rather distinguished gentleman sat behind a desk; to his right sat an oily character who GOB immediately made out to be a lawyer.

"Edgar Collingsworth," said the older man, standing up to introduce himself, "President of the Vitalis Company," (a subsidiary of Martha Stewart Omnipedia, a division of the Rand Corp.), " and this is our legal consul, Anthony Shark."

Anthony Shark stood up to shake GOB's hand. Sitting back down, he motioned to a chair in front of the desk.

GOB swayed slightly as the pills dissolved and nature's goodness flowed through his body.

"Have a seat, Mr. Bluth."said the lawyer, "We have a business proposition for you that could make you a wealthy man."

--

GOB pulled the Mercedes up to his new house under construction in Sudden Valley. _Their_ new house. He looked over at Ann sitting next to him in the passenger seat. GOB had traded his Segway for the Mercedes now that he could afford it. Besides, Ann had grown too large to ride it about a month into her pregnancy.

The business proposed by Edgar Collingsworth and Anthony Shark did indeed make GOB a wealthy man, although not quite in the way originally intended. The Vitalis Company marketed the drug as a "life-enhancement" supplemental in a series of commercials popularly known as the "Meet GOB" commercials. There were some that featured GOB cavorting poolside with large-breasted women while a narrator extolled its abilities to change _your_ life like it changed GOB's. There were others with GOB frolicking beachside with large-breasted women. Even one with him skydiving (with large-breasted women).

Sales of the drug took off and the company made millions, confounding skeptics who questioned whether the public would buy a product that tended to turn the skin of those who consumed it, blue. For a few months GOB was a minor celebrity as the company spokesman and there were even talks of a film deal. With his spokesman salary, fees for his appearance at trendy clubs, and as a stand-in for the Blue Man Group, he was well on his way to wealth if things continued the way they were.

Then he was hospitalized for complete renal failure and partial paralysis.

After spending a few weeks in intensive care, and a few more in recovery, GOB quickly sued Vitalis for gross negligence and about a dozen other reasons dreamed up by Bob Loblaw, _his_ legal consul. They won a 17.2 million judgment, weeks before the first class-actions would start winding their way through the legal system. The Vitalis Company soon filed for bankruptcy and its assets were acquired by ChemGro.

"You know," GOB said, turning to Ann, "there really is no supplement for happiness other than a loving spouse." He took her hand in his and squeezed. "And money, of course. Lots of money."

Ann smiled and squeezed his hand in return.

"Yes," she agreed, "And money. Lots of money."


End file.
